


Happy Chocolate Cake Day!

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [56]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: And Brock being calm, Darcy being neurotic, F/M, Happy Chocolate Cake Day, TripleAgent!Rumlow, are we dating?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29046909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Darcy gets sad news on Chocolate Cake Day--and then a surprise a few days later.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484168
Comments: 27
Kudos: 276





	Happy Chocolate Cake Day!

**Author's Note:**

> *I own nothing! January 27th was Chocolate Cake Day, so I wrote a thing.

“That’s it, I’m throwing in the towel,” Darcy said. She sighed as she scrolled with her mouse and reblogged the link with a frowny face.

“Hmm?” Jane said.

“The worst news possible on Chocolate Cake day. All the US locations of the Godiva store are closing,” Darcy said. “I’ve lost the will to live. There’s nothing left for me.”

“That’s not true,” Jane said. “There are still cupcake places. And the Ghirardelli brownie mixes.”

“Bah,” Darcy said, leaning back and propping her feet up on an extra rolling chair. “Who’s going to hook me up with Godiva cocoa?”

“I thought you could get it at the bookstore?” Jane said. 

“But then I buy books,” Darcy said. “Bam, that’s at least fifty bucks in books per hot cocoa run. That’s practically inflation.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said, giggling. “It’s inflation when you come home with new travel memoirs and mystery novels?”

“Yes. Also, it’s Agatha Christie’s fault for being so productive. Thank God I don’t like the new ones,” she muttered.

“Isn’t she dead?” Jane said. Her expression was hilarious.

“Her grandson has deputized a new author,” Darcy said. “It’s a thing estates do now when somebody’s dead.”

“Please don’t do that to me when I’m dead,” Jane said.

“I would never,” Darcy said. She paused. “I’m having you cryogenically frozen. Obviously.” She made her face deadpan, so Jane would laugh. It always worked. 

“Head or whole body?” Jane asked pertly.

“Depends entirely on how much money you leave me,” Darcy said. Jane snorted, then dissolved into giggles. 

* * *

She’d forgotten about the sad Godiva news by the time Jane left for an unusual three-day weekend with Thor. Darcy always used Jane’s absences as an excuse to read in the lab. She was running some data backups with her nose in Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman mystery,  _ Devil’s Food,  _ when someone plunked a metal cylinder in front of her on the desk. Darcy jumped. “Ah!” she shrieked and threw her book involuntarily, a second before she realized who it was. Brock Rumlow--her sometime hookup and SHIELD man of mystery--grinned at her. “Brock,” she said, shoulders relaxing.

“Hey,” he said, still smirking. “Sorry.” Darcy never quite got used to how handsome he was. Helen Cho had healed the burns he got doing undercover work as Crossbones for Fury. He’d stolen back missing SHIELD tech from the HYDRA cells. 

“Oh my God,” Darcy burbled. Then she saw the container. “Godiva cocoa?” she said, surprised.

“I just got back. They’re still open in Europe,” he said. “I thought you’d like the dark chocolate one.”

“Oh,” she said, momentarily pausing to process. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting--this is great. Really great.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, picking up her book. Darcy stared at him for a second. He was hooking her up with cocoa? She didn’t even think they were dating, not really. Yeah, he spent nights at her place. And he’d found that DC place that served mussels. She loved mussels. But he wasn’t--well, he didn’t declare himself. She was used to guys who made a big deal out of doing “boyfriend” stuff because they wanted the credit. Brock Rumlow didn’t make a big deal out of anything. He was so cool. It was kind of annoying, when it wasn’t impossibly attractive.  _ “Devil’s Food?”  _ he read aloud.

“Not skinny bakery owner solves crimes and murders, it’s kind of my wheelhouse,” Darcy said, waiting for him to tease her. He merely nodded.

“Sounds like you,” he said, sitting down. He winced slightly.

“Is something wrong?” Darcy asked. 

“Post mission rib healing,” he said, grimacing. “They’ll knit in a few hours. I heard Foster was gone on a trip with Thor, thought we could spend the weekend together,” he added.

“Oh,” Darcy said, happily surprised and confused in a different way. “Sure. Yeah. You want to go to dinner?” she asked. If his ribs were knitting, that ruled out sex, she thought. Fury would yell at her for re-breaking one of his top field agents. 

“Let’s go back to your place, order pizza or something?” he said. “I don’t feel like being around loud fucking drunks on a Friday night.”

“I feel you there,” Darcy said, half to herself, “lemme just check on these backups and then we’ll go.” Jane wouldn’t mind; she was surprisingly sanguine about Darcy’s jackbooted thug infatuation. She kept asking Darcy if she wanted to invite Brock to board game nights or out to beer gardens with Thor, even though Darcy insisted it wasn’t  _ that _ kind of a relationship. She’d turned off several of Jane’s devices, made sure the backup was finished, and dumped out her coffee in the lab’s adjoining bathroom when she came back to tell Brock it was time to go. She stepped back into the lab and her jaw dropped. He was reading her book, boot-clad feet in a chair. He didn’t even hear her come back. It was the funniest thing she’d seen since Thor accidentally got Mew-Mew tangled in her and Jane’s bras hanging in the shower to dry. Impulsively, she raised her phone and silently snapped a photo of Brock, then stowed her phone away. He still didn’t lift his head. He really was reading, she thought. “I’m, uh, ready to go,” Darcy said, grabbing her messenger and the cocoa and smothering the giggle bubbling up in her chest. 

“Okay,” he said, standing and actually reaching for one of the bookmarks in her pen cup. Darcy was trying not to laugh. 

“So, you want pizza?” she said, ready to lock the lab door.

“Yeah. Or whatever you want,” he said. They were walking along the hallway when he glanced at her. “I saw that, you know,” he said.

“Hmm?” Darcy said, playing innocent.

“You gonna post that online with some sort of cutesy caption about your boyfriend bringing you hot cocoa?” he said wryly. Darcy almost tripped over her own feet in surprise. He grabbed her arm. “Gotcha,” he said, grabbing her elbow as she staggered. 

“Thanks,” Darcy squeaked. 

  
  


* * *

“Jane,” Darcy whisper-hissed into the phone. She’d gotten voicemail. “I’m freaking out. He said  _ boyfriend  _ and now he’s on my couch, reading one of my mystery novels! What does it mean? Also, the pizza place is slammed and gonna take over an hour, so he’s calling other delivery places. This is a lot of pressure on me, okay? I can’t be cool for more than an hour, I’ll talk too much! Call me back.” She hung up and made a face in her bathroom mirror. Holy shit. What was happening? Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. Darcy emerged from the bathroom and found her book on the coffee table. Brock was in the kitchen. “What--you’re cooking?” she said.

“I thought I’d make you something,” he said. “You seemed too quiet, sweetheart. Delivery takes too long.”

“Ohhhh,” Darcy said, realizing he was actually making some of her fancy mac ‘n cheese. She’d picked up a Cracker Barrel one to try. “Thank you. I am, uh, hungry,” she said, gesturing with her arms. She felt like a total goofball. Brock smiled at her.

“Do you have low blood sugar a lot?” he asked, looking serious. 

“Sometimes!” Darcy said, trying not to sound panicky.  _ Roll with the lie,  _ she told herself.  _ This is fine. I’m fine. _

“You talk to a doctor about it?” he said, squeezing the cheese sauce into the drained elbow macaroni.

“Ummmm, not really?” she said, eyebrows going up.

“SHIELD medical’ll see you anytime,” Brock said. “Maybe we should make you an appointment. I’ll send am email tonight, move it up the chain for Monday.” Darcy stared, stunned. She actually had to put her hand on the edge of the countertop, she was so flustered. She said the first thing that occurred to her.

“You have cracked ribs!” she said.

“They’ve already seen my ribs,” he said mildly. He scrunched his nose as he stirred the cheese sauce. “You might need a full panel, just to make sure nothing’s out of range. Are you taking vitamin D? B12?”

“Wh-what? No,” Darcy said. “B12?”

“You don’t eat red meat, you need your B12, sweetheart,” he said. “And you stay inside a lot, your vitamin D’s probably low.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. She waited a beat for him to make a dirty joke, but he appeared perfectly sincere. It was alarming. He was making boxed pasta and worried about her blood sugar?

“Where are your bowls?” he asked. “I couldn’t find ‘em.”

“Corner cabinet,” Darcy got out. 

He carried the bowls to the couch. “What do you want to do this weekend?” he said, settling in next to her. “I haven’t been to the movies in fucking forever. We could see a movie.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. 

“You go ahead and eat,” he said, sounding concerned. “I had a cousin who got real quiet when his blood sugar was low. That’s how we could tell with Bobby.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, nodding and eating. She was so confused. Her phone rang as they were eating. Jane’s face appeared on the screen. 

“I’ll get it,” Brock said. He answered her phone. “Hey, Foster. She’s right here.” As Darcy looked at him, eyebrows at her hairline, he segued into a discussion of her. “I’m a little worried, she went quiet on me and I think it’s her blood sugar.” He nodded. “Yeah. I will.” Then he passed the phone to Darcy. “She wants to talk to you,” he told Darcy. When she put the phone to her ear, Jane was already giggling wildly. 

“Someone’s got a boyfriend!” Jane singsonged. Darcy almost swore, but Brock would overhear.

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I am going to have to call you back.” Jane was laughing in her ear as she hung up.

“You okay?” Brock said.

“Yep,” Darcy said. “Yup. Totally fine. Gonna eat this mac n cheese like a boss.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “You do that.”

She’d finished off her pasta and set the bowl on the coffee table when he gestured. “C’mere,” he said, turning and pulling her into his lap. Brock rubbed her shoulders gently. “You think about a movie yet?” he asked, thumbs pressing into her neck.

“Um,” Darcy said, sighing. “Nooooo, but this is really nice. Very nice. Let’s do this and stream a movie instead?”

“Sure,” he said, sounding amused. She made a sad sound when he took a hand away to grab the remote. “You got any feelings about  _ Wonder Woman?”  _ he asked. “Or do you wanna watch a murder thing?”

“A murder thing?” Darcy said. She half-turned to look at him.

“Yeah,” he said. He smirked at her. “Don’t pretend to be innocent with me. You love murder things. You wrote down the names of those documentaries when Anderson Cooper mentioned ‘em on New Year’s,” he said, clearly teasing her. He’d had a rare night off on the holiday and they’d spent the evening in bed. Darcy had told him she didn’t care about going out, just so there’d be no pressure. 

“I thought you were asleep then!” she said. 

“Nah,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “That was a good night. Me and you and a good bed and some fucking prosecco, murder girl.” He grinned. “Let’s find you a cold case or a serial killer.” 

“Excuse me, I just like to think about solving crimes,” Darcy insisted. She’d had no idea he paid that close attention to her.

“Uh-huh,” he said, scrolling through an app. “Golden state guy?”

“He was a cop, wasn’t he?” Darcy said, interested in spite of his teasing.

“Bingo,” he said. The remote bonked as he hit okay. 

“This isn’t going to bother you, is it?” Darcy asked.

“Nope.” He paused. “And if you get scared, you can hold onto me,” he added slyly. 

Fifteen minutes later, Darcy had tucked her head against his shoulder. “Okay, okay, stop it. I can’t hack it with the creepy phone calls to victims. Too much,” she said, nearly begging. This documentary was terrifying. The man had actually called his surviving victims to threaten them.

“No shit,” Brock said, expression grim. He looked at her. “We shoulda gone with  _ Wonder Woman.” _

“It’s not too late,” Darcy said. “Or we could go to bed?”

“I need a minute,” Brock said. “The murdering is a mood killer, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” Darcy said. She snuggled against him as Diana Prince did some reassuringly heroic things onscreen. “Wonder Woman’s nice,” Darcy said. She slipped her hand under his shirt and rubbed his abs gently. They were great abs. 

“Are you petting me?” he said wryly.

“Maybe,” Darcy said. She patted him happily. “Good boy.” He snorted. “You’re seriously the best abs I’ve ever dated,” she said, feeling daring. He didn’t object.

“Good,” Brock said. Darcy raised her eyebrows. “I don’t work this fucking hard to be boyfriend number four,” he grumbled. “I wanna be noteworthy.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, wildly happy. “Okay.” She crawled down, lifted his shirt, and started kissing the planes of his stomach. “This oblique is very impressive,” she said. He laughed.

“That’s not where obliques are, but I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he said as she continued kissing his stomach. Darcy blew a raspberry in response and then wiggled out of her own shirt. When he glanced up at him, he was looking at her through half-lowered eyelids, expression relaxed—and lustful. “We’re doing this?” he said. She nodded and unzipped his pants. He sighed. She knew it was a happy sound for him.  One of them. The others followed. He was groaning as she moved when he startled her with a volley of swear words and a declaration. “Fuck. Fuck. I love you so much, baby.”  Darcy rolled her eyes up at him and smirked as much as she could manage. “Shit,” he said, clearly freaked by the involuntary declaration. “Forget I—no, I don’t mean that. Shit. Can we not make a big deal out of this? I’ll buy you more chocolate, whatever,” Brock said. It was oddly hilarious. She had never heard him use that voice before. His panicked voice. His illusion of total coolness was shattered. She released him and grinned.

“You’re my boyfriend, huh?” Darcy said. 

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Why would you ask—oh, fuck that feels good.” She’d started again. He exhaled roughly, then tipped his chin down. “Did you not think I was your boyfriend? You’re not seeing other people?” He looked alarmed. She kept her head down and he mixed groans with nervous chatter. He kept asking if she felt the same. “Listen, I don’t see anybody but you—oh, Christ,” he moaned. She decided it was time to sit up and held out her hand.

“Condom?” Darcy said, wiggling her leggings down and tossing them on the floor. He reached for a condom and passed it to her, but followed it with a question.

“Are you seeing other people?” he asked, as she eased on top of him slowly.

“Well, not right now, you’re in me,” she quipped and then felt slightly guilty when he looked hurt. “No, of course not. My heart belongs to you,” Darcy said, “and Keith Morrison, but our relationship isn’t sexual.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Wiseass,” Brock said. He looked at her. “Funny, smart, gorgeous wiseass,” he said softly, hands on her hips. She grinned at him.

“I’m very, very happy—oh!” Darcy said as he rolled his hips a little. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
